


to be your harbor

by DoubleL27



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: F/F, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Service Top Alexis Rose, Sex Toys, Strap-Ons, Sugar Mama Twyla Sands, Sweet/Hot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26434186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleL27/pseuds/DoubleL27
Summary: Twyla uses some of her money on things that are special to her. Alexis is special to Twyla. Luckily, Twyla is precious to Alexis.
Relationships: Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands
Comments: 36
Kudos: 78
Collections: Elevate! A Schitt's Creek Femslash Exchange, Up for Anything – a Schitt's Creek WLW porn collection





	to be your harbor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ships_to_sail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ships_to_sail/gifts).



> For the incomparable ships-to-sail, who requested a sugar momma/praise kink match up for Alexis/Twyla. I hope this lives up to everything you hoped it to be. It was an honor to write this for you! 
> 
> Major thanks to RhetoricalQuestions for remaining an incomparable beta! 
> 
> The title comes from Vienna Tang's hauntingly beautiful Harbor, which is very Twylexis to me. 
> 
> _You've got a journey to make  
>  There's a horizon to chase  
> So go far beyond where we stand  
> No matter the distance, I'm holding your hand_
> 
> _[Chorus]  
>  Sail your sea, meet your storm  
> All I want is to be your harbor  
> The light in me will guide you home  
> All I want is to be your harbor_

Brooklyn, NY

“Uhhh, what is this?” Alexis asks, tilting her head and allowing her hand to flip up, parallel to the ground as one finger points at the structure before them. 

When Twyla had shown up at the ARC office, all smiles and joy, calling Alexis away from work, Alexis figured they were going to enjoy a casual day in New York City. They tended to do trendy cafes, museums for Twyla and late-night bar hopping. What she had not expected was being walked to Park Slope and being brought to the stop in the middle of a sidewalk. 

“A brownstone!” Twyla says, her voice bright and bubbly.

Alexis turns to Twyla, her eyes narrowing as her frown deepens. “Uhh, yeah, no I meant more like, ummm...” She takes her hands that have been following her meandering words and draws a large circle before tenting them, fingers dangling toward the pavement and pumping them. ”Why are we here?”

Twyla blinks but her bright smile never dims. “Oh, I bought it.”

“You” Alexis begins, dragging the short word into several syllables, “ _bought it?_ ”

“Mmhmm,” Twyla confirms, nodding as if nothing is amiss. “We should tour it!”

Alexis turns back to look at the row of brownstones and the one Twyla has her standing in front of them. It’s slightly shorter than the two on either side, wider as well. Alexis turns to “Tour it? Didn’t you look at it before you bought it?”

“I saw it online!”

Alexis reaches out and grabs Twyla’s arm, stopping her from continuing up the path. The urge to protect Twyla from the world rises up, and despite knowing that Twyla has faced some of the ugliest things in the world, her eternal belief in the goodness of others makes Alexis want to wrap Twyla in bubble wrap. “Twyla, you can’t just buy a house you haven’t seen!”

“There were pictures. Besides, my ex-step-aunt’s ex-husband is a building inspector here in New York. He checked it out for me.”

“And you trust him?”

Twyla frowns, her ponytail swaying with her head tilt, “Oh, well, yeah. He was always really nice. He still sends Christmas Cards even though Aunt Janet tried to frame him for a muder she committed.”

“Mmmmmhmm,” Alexis hums, closing her eyes and trying to bypass the part of her brain that is worried about things that happened in Twyla’s past. Suddenly her brain rewinds to cover the fact that Twyla _bought a house_ here, in New York City. Her eyes fly open and she grips Twyla’s arm tightly. “Wait, are you moving to New York?”

“No,” Twyla says, like Alexis is crazy. The little fantasy Alexis did not realize she has been building in her head comes crashing down around her ankles as Twyla keeps talking. “I still have the Cafe and the house in Schitt’s Creek. And the Jazzagals. I get a lot of solos now.”

Twyla’s videos of solo practice are one of the highlights of her week. Rather than say that, Alexis feigns a calm she doesn’t quite feel as she questions. “Mmmm. So, like, is your ex-step-aunt’s ex-husband going to manage the property for you?”

Twyla’s eyes are comically wide as her head tilts to the other side. “Alexis, I thought you could live here.”

Alexis’s hand slides off Twyla’s arm. Everything seems weirdly still and silent, even though Brooklyn never is. “You cannot just buy me a townhouse in Brooklyn.”

“I didn’t.”

“You _did,”_ Alexis argues back.

Twyla takes both of Alexis’s hands in hers. Twyla has these absurdly long fingers, calluses from many days of work at the diner. Alexis focuses on the feeling of those “Alexis, you were the one who advised me that I cannot just keep my money in my mattresses and in cubbies in the wall. _You_ said I needed investments.”

Alexis worries at her lip with her teeth. “I did.”

“ _And_ you said that property is an excellent investment.”

She had. Both Dad and Patrick said so too, when she asked them about a _hypothetical friend_ who had a _hypothetical friend_ with money stashed in various spaces in their house. Dad had— incorrectly—asked her for the full name of this “Stavros” so he could do a background check, and requested her to please not go down any dangerous paths while they still didn’t have a private jet. Patrick had just made her promise the money hadn’t been obtained illegally.

“It _is_ , but like, you should do the proper research.” Alexis isn’t entirely sure what the process is, just that both Patrick and Dad had muttered about building inspections, more garages (although this place doesn’t seem to have any) and easy crow accounts and other things one needed to do.

“Alexis, let’s go check it out,” Twyla says, unbothered by the amount of research and preparation that should have occurred and tugs on Alexis’s hands. 

One hand drops away, and Twy laces her fingers with Alexis’s, pressing their palms together. Twyla tugs again and Alexis cannot help but follow, dragged along in her wake. The house is beautiful. It’s better than David’s SoHo loft ever looked. His loft had been monochrome and ultra-modern. The brownstone is almost soft. It reminds her of Twyla. The colors are yellows and greens and greys, giving it the feeling of a field in springtime. The floors are warm wood parquet floors throughout, occasionally covered by area rugs. 

There are two lovely bedrooms, one in the taupe, yellow, and gray style of the house and the other is all soft creams and warm woods. The house is covered in built-ins as well as full closets. Twyla is giving her the rundown on all the storage and all Alexis can do is compare this beautiful space with her postage stamp of a loft with IKEA furniture. The whole thing makes her shudder. 

And Twyla actually wants her to _live_ here, in this house that she bought.

“This is my favorite part,” Twyla confides, taking Alexis’s hand and pulling her up another flight of stairs and pushing open a door at the top. 

The door opens up on a delightful roof terrace, warmed by the slanting afternoon sun. There’s a teak table and a couple of chairs, also in teak with a woven ivory fabric seating, taking up one corner of the terrace with a cantilever umbrella hanging over it. There’s also a gray outdoor sectional, with plump pillows and a coffee table arranged in the middle of it. 

There’s a spread of cheese and charcuterie and fruit laid out on the coffee table. Two flutes stand next to it, ready and waiting for the champagne that sits in a chiller stand by the coffee table. It’s beautiful and lovely. Alexis raises an eyebrow in question at Twyla.

“I thought we could celebrate.”

“Celebrate the house?” Alexis asks, tentatively, already coveting the fig jam that sits in a pot at the edge of the tray.

“Yeah. My first big investment. If you don’t count the cafe.”

“Twyla—”

Twyla’s smile turns so fond, Alexis almost cannot take it. “A wise woman once recommended that I spend money on things that make me happy. This makes me happy.”

Twyla leans up and in, and the kiss is soft and sweet. The kissing thing is relatively new. Not kissing girls, she’s done that before. But kissing Twyla is new, and Alexis loves it. Twyla is the first girl for whom kissing doesn’t serve a purpose beyond the intimacy of enjoying each other. There’s no Tsar to escape or trust fund frat boy to impress or a contest to win. 

There’s a longing that springs up instantly when Twyla pulls away and leads her to the sofa. That’s new, too.

Popping the bottle of champagne causes Twyla to startle with a giggle at the sudden noise. They’re both laughing as Twyla pours very full flutes and carefully hands one over to Alexis.

“To new beginnings,” Twyla says as they clink their glasses together.

Alexis takes a sip from her flute. The champagne is leagues better than the Zhampagne they used to drink when they would go out looking for boys at the Wobbly Elm. This is much better. A little ache creeps back in at the fact that Twyla doesn’t plan to live here, though. “I cannot believe you bought a house in New York.”

“I know. Your place is getting so cramped, though, and I did need to buy property. And there’s only so much to buy around Schitt’s Creek. Although,” Twyla muses, reaching out to curl a bit of Alexis’s hair behind her ear, making her shiver. “I think I’m going to miss curling up in your tiny bed.”

Memories of the first time Alexis talked Twyla into cuddling in her barely full-sized bed rather than sleeping on the loveseat that masquerades as a couch, spring up in her mind. Twyla smelled of sunshine and wild grasses despite their day traveling through the city. They whispered and giggled like two girls on a sleepover before Alexis kissed Twyla experimentally. It’s only been a few months since that first kiss, and a few moments since their last, but she still cannot wait to kiss Twyla again. Alexis sips her champagne at the frisson of excitement that streaks through her.

Alexis says archly, “I won’t. I haven’t had a real sized bed in years.” 

Visions of pulling Twyla onto the wide expanse of bed, curling into each other on purpose and not just out of necessity, having the space to try a wide variety of positions, dance in Alexis’s head. 

“Well, as long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

The words hit Alexis somewhere in the middle of her chest, taking her breath away. Twyla seems to not find her words quite as earthshaking. Instead, Twy picks up a piece of brie on a toast round, dabs a bit of the fig jam on it and offers it up. Alexis opens her mouth and accepts the offering. The salt, sweet and the crunch and the creamy are a delight. Alexis smiles at Twyla, rewarded with a sunny smile in return.  
They sprawl across the couch. Their evening is filled with eating and sipping champagne and exchanging stories about what’s happened while they’ve been apart. The stories are familiar. They talk to each other all the time: through texts and phone calls and instagram, but it’s different to hear in person. 

The sun dips below the high horizon of rooftops, lighting the sky up into a riot of colors in the New York smog. 

“We should probably go,” Alexis says, wishing they didn’t have to.

Twyla’s head dips down, but she tilts back up to look at Alexis with a steady gaze. “I thought we could stay here tonight. I packed some things.”

“Did you?” Alexis asks, shimmying in her seat.

“Yes. Let’s clean this up.”

It’s easy to clean up with Twyla. Twyla makes everything a bit of a game, making bets on how long it will take them to clean up, coming in close like she’s going to kiss Alexis any time they are in proximity but sliding right back into cleaning with nothing more than a breathy thank you. Alexis steals her share of kisses, pulling giggles out of both of them. No time at all seems to pass until they’re stepping through into the largest of the bedrooms. This time Alexis spies the weekend bag in the corner. It’s a soft buttery leather, one that was in her closet when she left for work this morning. 

“If you don’t like the furniture, you can always replace it,” Twyla offers, fingers twisting together. “I just bought it as is.”

“I love it. It’s wonderful.” She doesn’t say that it’s just the kind of place she pictures Twyla in. At Twyla’s questioning look, Alexis concedes. “If we want to redecorate later, we can.”

“Alexis, this is your place.”

Alexis smiles, letting her head fall softly to the side. “Twyla, are you going to let me pay rent?” 

“I mean the whole thing is paid for. I figured you could just pay for utilities and then I would handle the taxes. You want to grow Alexis Rose Communications and this would give you some breathing room to do that.”

“Which is really, very sweet of you,” Alexis praises, causing Twyla to beam at her. “So when we decide we want to redecorate, we can. For now, get on the bed.”

Twyla ducks her head slightly, giving Alexis a secret smile from under her lashes. “Okay.”

“Naked,” Alexis clarifies.

“Okay.”

“Good girl,” Alexis coos, opening up the black go bag that Twyla stored in the corner of the room.

Twyla shudders as she begins unzipping the sundress she’s wearing today. Alexis pulls out her Joque harness and the clouds in the sky pink Maverick dildo. “You’re so thoughtful, Twyla,” Alexis tells her, setting the harness up for the main event later, “Giving me a space to feel safe.” Which is something Twyla has always done, even if it’s never been quite so grand. 

Silence greets her, and Alexis looks up to see that Twyla has stripped down to her panties, bra delightfully absent, lying on the bed with the covers back, a warm flush highlighting the trail of freckles that lead from Twyla’s cheeks down to her stomach. The trail ends in those lovely light cyan panties with the feather-detailed lace that Alexis had picked out on their last trip to Nordstroms. Twyla had insisted on buying clothes for Alexis, but Alexis had hid these panties and a variety of other specially picked clothing items in Twyla’s bag for her to take home. Seeing Twyla in them here and now, causes something inside Alexis to twist and bloom. 

Sexual power is an old friend that Alexis has used in many ways. She used to play at being submissive, using her ability to appear like a damsel to give the men she had sex with a sense of agency and power, but here, with Twyla, the roles are reversed. Alexis doesn’t have to pretend to be submissive or demure. Twyla likes when Alexis bosses her around. Twyla _really_ likes it when Alexis tells her how wonderful she is. 

The best part is, they’re not lies. 

“You’re such a good girl,” Alexis says, and Twyla arches in place on the bed as if she’s already been stroked. It’s amazing how quickly these things go. “Shall we use this to get us started today?”

Alexis pulls out the feathered crop from the bag and slaps the hard end of it against her hand, letting the feathers quiver on the other side. Twyla’s eyes widen but there’s light dancing in her eyes. 

“I need you to tell me yes or no.”

Twyla lets out a little moan, her pink tongue darting between her lips. “Yes, please.”

“Such lovely manners,” Alexis praises, and Twyla glows in response. Alexis holds the crop in the middle and bobbles the ends slowly. “Soft or hard?”

“Soft, to start.”

Alexis takes the soft grey feathers and carefully strokes the interior of Twyla’s arm, right where the freckles stop and a river of pale flesh lies instead. “Good girl. Thank you for using your words.”

Climbing onto the bed, Alexis sits up on her knees. She runs trails down between Twyla’s breasts, around her areolas. The feathers dance down Twyla’s thighs before coming to circle her navel. She’s rewarded by all of Twyla’s gasps and sighs and the way she shifts as her arousal grows. Alexis returns the favor by telling Twyla how good and sweet and pretty she is. 

Twyla’s hand reaches out and curls around the back of Alexis’s thigh. There’s a deep squeeze as the words “You’re so sweet,” drop from Alexis’s lips. The pressure of Twyla’s fingers and nails against her flesh has heat pooling between Alexis’s legs. But it’s too soon. 

Alexis slips a hand down and carefully peels Twyla’s fingers away. “Uh-uh. I didn’t say you could touch.”

Alexis takes the crop and spanks Twyla across the thigh. 

“Color?” Alexis asks at Twyla’s quick gasp.

“Green,” Twyla rasps, her breaths coming rapidly.

“That’s perfect, Twyla. I love when you tell me how you’re doing.” 

Alexis resumes using the tickler end, stroking down Twyla’s leg, over the reddening spot that she spanked with the crop end and moving down to Twyla’s feet. She trails back up before hooking her fingers inside the waistband of the panties that Alexis knows Twyla is wearing with the intention to drive her crazy. She takes her time, following the trailing lace and takes them off slowly. The lined gusset is damp all the way through, and Alexis can even see the peeking head of Twyla’s clit just beneath the auburn curls. 

Alexis slides off the bed, tossing the panties aside, and grabs the finger vibe. She clicks the end off the bullet vibe before slipping the holster over her index finger on her left hand. 

Crawling back on the bed, Alexis uses the textured tip of the vibe to buzz over Twyla’s nipples, bringing them to stiff peaks as Twyla arches on the bed. Alexis uses the tickler while she uses the vibrator, causing Twyla to writhe. Alexis can feel herself getting hot just by watching Twyla’s pleasure build.

“Alexis, please,” Twyla moans, arching again.

“Please what, sunshine?”

“Please,” Twyla says again, “I need...I want…”

Alexis strokes the tickler along Twyla’s arm. “You’re doing so well, sunshine. What do you need?”

“I want to touch you.”

“Here.” Alexis tosses away the tickler and leans over Twyla. “If you want to touch me, go right ahead.”

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Twyla whines, her hand curling around Alexis’s thigh and traveling up under the skirt of Alexis’s dress. Long fingers play with the lacy edge of Alexis’s panties. 

“If you want to undress me, go right ahead.”

Twyla surges up, yanking Alexis’s dress up over her head. Twyla rains kisses down Alexis’s torso when it’s lifted, over her free breasts, down her breastbone towards her navel. 

“Mmm. That feels so good,” Alexis breathes, trying to keep her thoughts clear enough to find a spot to drag the feathers down next. She settles for a long stroke down Twyla’s spine, enjoying the way that Twyla’s nails bite into the flesh at her waist. They continue to play, exploring each other, while Alexis showers Twyla with praise. The air is filled with moans, _good girl_ s and the sweet excitement of enjoying each other.

Twyla protests, a soft mewling, when Alexis slides off the bed. “Just wait,” Alexis promises.

She quickly undoes the velcro fastenings of the harness and steps in, bringing it up to sit flush against her body and swiftly pulls on the straps and secures the jock strap type harness to her body. Twyla shudders, watching her with heavy lidded eyes.

Alexis stalks back over to the bed, bringing the bottle of lube. Twyla’s already wet; Alexis explored that before getting up, but it never hurts to have a little more. Alexis tosses the bottle to Twyla. Once Twyla catches it in a clap, Alexis wraps her hand around Twyla’s dainty ankle and drags her across the soft Egyptian cotton sheets to the edge of the bed.

Twyla giggles as she opens the lube and squirts it into her palm and begins slicking up the pink cloud dildo with careful strokes. The base of the cock rocks against Alexis’s pubic bone and her clit, just enough. 

“I love watching you slick me up,” Alexis husks, digging her fingers into Twyla’s thighs. “You’re doing such an amazing job.”

Twyla trembles slightly, taking her hand off the cock and stroking over her labia and her clit. Alexis grins, watching Twyla touch herself. Alexis uses her grip on Twyla’s thighs to pull her in tight and then puts her hands on Twyla’s ass, giving her cheeks a squeeze. Twyla’s legs wrap around Alexis, her heels digging into the small of her back. Alexis lifts Twyla’s hips, and buries herself inside.

Twyla’s hands fist in the sheets as Alexis begins pulling out and thrusting back in with smooth, slow strokes. 

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Alexis asks. 

Twyla responds with a wordless moan. Her hips arch up and Alexis can feel the quaking in Twyla’s thighs around her waist. Alexis’s pumping picks up pace as her excitement grows. “You’re taking it so well.”

Twyla begins quaking all over, arching off the bed, her breath escaping her throat in a song of beautiful cascading cries. Alexis begins to lose her rhythm, focused on grinding her clit against the base of the toy with every thrust.

“Oh God, Twyla. You’re perfect. So perfect. Oh God. Fuck.”

Alexis’s knees buckle as her legs try to give way. She collapses on the bed, on top of Twyla. Alexis can feel her own trembling limbs and wonders if Twyla is still shaking as well. She rolls to the side, taking Twyla with her, still buried inside. 

Nimble fingers capture Alexis’s nipples, twisting and rolling them and pooling a hot need in her belly. The same fingers find their way down Alexis’s body and sneak down to the open bottom of the harness. Twyla’s fingers are deft and talented, driving Alexis back over the edge again as she fingers Alexis with smooth strokes. 

Alexis comes apart again, seeing stars and yelling Twyla’s name. She’s not sure when Twyla slipped off of the dildo. It’s only with the vaguest sense of awareness that she feels Twyla slip the harness off her body and down her legs.

Alexis pulls her back down to the bed, pulling Twyla in close. Her hair smells of daisies and fresh cut grass. 

“You’re so good to me, Twyla. I should be taking care of you.”

“You already took care of me. It’s my turn to take care of you.”

Twyla moves away from Alexis, and Alexis hears a needy whine escape her own lips at the loss. Everything is better once they’re tucked into the fresh covers and Twyla’s head pillows on Alexis’s shoulder. Alexis uses her arm to curl around Twyla’s shoulders, pulling her in closer. Silky hair tangles in her fingers and Alexis cards through it softly.

“You shouldn’t, like, be a stranger though, you know,” Alexis whispers. “You’ll, like, keep a key, won’t you?”

“Okay, Alexis. Actually, I have been thinking of getting my pilot’s license. I thought I might get myself a plane and be able to fly here whenever I wanted.”

Alexis’s heartbeat steadies, not realizing that it had been threatening to beat out of her chest up until then. As ridiculous as it is that Twyla wants to get a pilot’s license, the idea that she wants to do so just to come see _her_ more often, is almost too much. Her eyes feel suspiciously wet as she takes Twyla’s chin in her hand and looks her in the eye. Twyla’s aquamarine eyes stare back at her, also damp, before Alexis crushes her mouth against Twyla’s, their teeth clicking.

Twyla’s tongue swirls around Alexis’s before she sucks Alexis’s tongue into her mouth. Goosebumps raise along Alexis’s skin, slow and steady, in soft prickles. She caresses her thumb in soft strokes over the silky skin behind Twyla’s ear where freckles hide. 

The harsh urgency melts away into soft, languid kisses. Twyla pulls her lips away slowly before offering a gentle nuzzle of her nose against Alexis’s. A happy hum buzzes from Alexis’s lips and she bumps her forehead softly against Twyla’s.

“So what do you think?” Twyla asks breathlessly into the tiny space between them..

“That would be, like, totally amazing,” Alexis whispers. 

Rolling over, Alexis pulls Twyla so that her head nestles into Alexis’s neck. Alexis gives her another squeeze, contentment seeping deep into her bones. Twyla’s hand creeps up Alexis’s chest and Alexis captures it in her own, pressing Twyla’s even closer to her heart. She lets out a deep breath and drifts off to sleep holding Twyla close.


End file.
